Observations by SH
by macgyvershe
Summary: One shot. The most observant man on the planet is observing John. Who will see what?


**Observations by SH**

John had received a mild concussion at the end of their last rather dangerous case. The doctors at St. Michael's had wanted him to stay for 24 hours of observation.

"Observation," Sherlock huffed. "He lives with the most observant man on the planet!"

John ducked his head, rubbing his chin as he smirked and held on to his giggle.

"John, do you want to stay in this abysmal, wretched, filthy place overnight?"

"Well, when you put it like that, no, Sherlock. I don't."

"End of story." Sherlock proclaimed and grabbed John by the wrist to guide him out. It still took twenty more minutes to extricate themselves from the inner workings of the halls of St. Michaels.

(-_-)

Finally home. John plopped down on the couch and closed his eyes. It had been a long and difficult day and he was utterly tired.

"Do you want something to eat, John?" Sherlock was close.

"Just tea, please," John said in a whispery voice. He could hear Sherlock in the background he was in stealth mode, moving around the flat like a stalking jaguar. John was too tired to open his eyes or close his mind. "Did you just offer to make actual food," John retorted?

Sherlock took the whistling kettle from the stove and poured it into the tea kettle to steep their favorite tea.

"You're not sleeping are you John?" Sherlock inquired.

"Just sort of floating around, little bit of a headache," he replies.

"Here take some of these." Sherlock hands him several pain pills, "Do you want a bendy straw in your tea?"

This had John sitting up slowly and eyeing Sherlock with a questioning glare.

"Where is my Sherlock Holmes, you are obviously some happy-snappy clone and there are no bendy straws present in this flat."

Sherlock places John's cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him with a purple bendy straw sticking proudly out of the top. John takes the offending bendy straw picks it up and flicks off the moisture then places it behind his ear.

"And where did you get bendy straws at this time of night," John was frankly flabbergasted that strange things were showing up in the flat.

"Mycroft's minions are at my disposal if I so desire, John."

John shakes his head, feels the headache become a little disgruntled and lets out a deep sigh.

"You're using government agents to make runs to Tesco? Unbelievable."

John finishes his tea and gets up.

"Thanks for the tea, Sherlock. I'm going to bed."

"Great, good place for you." Sherlock admonishes and takes John by the hand and pulls him gently toward his bedroom; John, in follow-Sherlock-anywhere mode, cabooses along behind his rather tall flat mate in total disbelief.

"And we are going to your bedroom, why?" John is not sure he should even ask.

Sherlock sets John down on the edge of the bed and starts taking off his clothing, dislodging his bendy straw. John can see his pajama bottoms and a clean tee on the end of Sherlock's bed.

"Sherlock, just what the hell is going on here?" John is tired and a tiny bit out of it, but is compliant to Sherlock's desires. He knows not why.

"You are to be observed for 24 hours, woken up at intervals through the night to make sure that you have not slipped into a coma. I have thinking to do. I am not going up and down the stairs all night to make sure you are still alive. Therefore, you will sleep here with me. I will monitor your sleep cycle. I imagine that you will probably sleep for quite a while as you are tired and injured. Problem?"

"No problem," John skins out of his underwear and slips into his pajamas and shirt and rolls into Sherlock's bed.

"You are not," John remembers that Sherlock sleeps in the altogether, runs around in a sheet or if he forgets in nothing.

"Just to placate you," Sherlock holds up a pair of pajama bottoms. He disrobes puts on his bottoms and slides in with John.

John is laying there in Sherlock's bed the heat radiating from the furnace that is Sherlock Holmes is wonderful. The sheets smell clean and the bed is soft. Who knew that Sherlock's blinding brilliance gave off so much delicious heat? John rolls his back towards Sherlock basking in the phenomenal warmth and closes his eyes.

Sherlock pulls John in close and settles in to throw a myriad number of mental trains down onto his own infinite number of Waterloo stations.

(-_-)

John is warm and there is comfort. He feels no pain, only the pleasure of curling up next to a familiar body.

A voice like molten dark chocolate wrapped in black leather and striped with powerful desire brushes hot breath on John's ear.

"John," the whisper drags John from his hot dreams with a sound that is half an octave below its normal register.

John opens his eyes momentarily. The room is dark. This isn't his room. There is only the dim light of street lamps coming through the windows on the west side and he can see only outlines.

"Sherlock," he whispers? Then he realizes that the warmth that he is wrapped around and which is wrapped around him is his overly tall, tremendously talented and a tad terroristically natured flat mate.

"Go back to sleep John." Sherlock says soothingly and, of course, John must obey that voice and that man that he must always follow. Warm arms encircle his body and he drifts away.

"Dr. John," there is a smile in that voice that drips on John like rain upon the parched earth.

"Sher…"

"Quiet there, quiet and sleep." The voice is mellow, so rampant with love and under layers of contentment and John can only think of warmth and wonderful tenderness of Sherlock's touch.

(-_-)

John is having this dream. He is in bed with Sherlock. He is stroking Sherlock in a way that Sherlock is very much enjoying. Sherlock is making these humming, happy sounds and then John realizes that the sound isn't a dream sound but something he can hear with his actual ears.

Opening his eyes he sees that his dream is more real than he could ever imagine.

"You've done this before," Sherlock is sitting up against the headboard of the bed, a real smile upon his face.

"Obviously," John moves to remove his hand from Sherlock's person.

Sherlock stops John from drawing away by placing his hand over John's.

"Sherlock, I apologize…"

"John, if you can be so persistently playful and sexual stimulating while you are asleep, I really have to find out what you are like when fully awake.

"Right then," John says resuming his playful and stimulating actions.

"John, John,….JOHN." Sherlock isn't disappointed. Not at all.


End file.
